


I've Only Got Myself To Blame

by artificialash (ashke)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Brief Description Of Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashke/pseuds/artificialash
Summary: I had a nightmareBefore I could hug you, who was cryingI woke up.





	I've Only Got Myself To Blame

**Author's Note:**

> To the prompter, I hope you like this and that it's angsty enough for you! 
> 
> The song in the summary is EXO's "My Turn To Cry" if you didn't already guess. I kind of recommend listening to the song while reading.
> 
> (Prompt #123)

Junmyeon never believed in ghosts before. It was one of those things that he thought could be explained away. Every time he sat down next to Sehun’s comatose body and talked to him, he firmly believed that his childhood best friend would come back eventually. He just never expected it to be a little over two years after the accident, when Sehun’s parents heartbrokenly decided to pull the plug on his eighteenth birthday. Junmyeon didn’t expect it when, after Sehun’s parents left the room to discuss the paperwork, he sat next to Sehun’s cooling body and cried his eyes out. He didn’t expect the soft spoken “hyung” right next to him. Nor the appearance of a transparent Sehun that made him swallow the scream that was trying to roll out. 

Under any other circumstances, Junmyeon would have fixed this years ago. If it was anyone else, Junmyeon would have tried everything in his power to get rid of them or help them cross over. Whatever was the proper procedure for this type of thing. However, Sehun isn’t just anyone and, despite the initial shock, Junmyeon doesn’t want to get rid of him. He can’t, especially when he is partly the reason that Sehun is not alive anymore. 

So for the past five years, Sehun has been keeping him company. Sometimes when he has had a particularly long day, Sehun will catch him staring and joke about how he needs to brighten up because after all Sehun is living vicariously through him. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he still chuckles and tries to push his weariness away. 

Tonight is one of those nights. His kindergarten class was just absolute hell today and it takes every ounce of energy he has left just to shower and collapse into bed. Sehun joins him, not that he needs to sleep or anything, and listens to Junmyeon vent about all the little incidences today.

Sehun keeps quiet the whole time, just hums to let Junmyeon know he’s still listening, and waits until Junmyeon’s words trail off and he’s rubbing his eyes out of either frustration or exhaustion or both. 

“Hyung, you need to get laid.” 

Junmyeon groans and rolls over, putting his back to Sehun. “That’s completely irrelevant to what I was just talking about, Sehun.”

“Listen, hyung,” Sehun is no longer lying next to him and is, instead, crouched next to the bed by his head so that it’s impossible to ignore him. This is something that used to make Junmyeon jump, but after five years of it, he’s grown used to it. “You’re too stressed. You need to get laid, let some of that tension out.”

“I’m not interested in having sex with anyone, Sehun. Even then, I don’t need sex to let out tension.” He reaches out, as if to cup Sehun’s cheek despite it being useless. He hasn’t touched Sehun physically since he held Sehun’s hand as he died in the hospital bed. “I have you afterall. You listen to me complain and distract me.”

“Hyung.” Sehun gives him a pointed look, moves to hover over Junmyeon like he’s trying to lay on him. It makes Junmyeon shiver for a second, the close proximity. “How am I supposed to live vicariously through you if you’re not even getting laid? I died a virgin, you shouldn’t die one too.”

“Who says I’m a virgin?” Junmyeon knows that there is no way he can fool Sehun. They have gone their whole lives telling each other just about everything that they would normally keep secret.

Sehun scoffs and goes back to his original position, curled up behind Junmyeon. “I’m just saying you need to get out more and possibly date someone.”

Dating is something Junmyeon never really considered. Not for a long time, anyway. He had always had Sehun with him and he never felt like he needed more. The last time he had considered dating was right before the accident and it was more as a way to escape than out of any real romantic affection for the other person. He’s not going to tell Sehun that though. There’s no point. So he just mutters, “I _have_ friends and all I really need is you, Sehun-ah. Plus, if I dated, how am I going to explain to them that my dead childhood best friend lives with me?”

Sehun doesn’t respond and Junmyeon is just glad that this particular conversation is over. He drifts off to sleep, thinking about how different things would be if Sehun was still alive.

They never talk about the accident. Not directly anyway. Sehun will joke about being dead, something that’s become a strange type of coping mechanism after all this time, but they never really talk about what happened and why. It’s something Junmyeon fears the most.

He dreams about it often. No, not dreams. Nightmares. He relives the reason Sehun was out on his bike on a rainy Saturday at two in the morning. Sometimes it’s in first person, just how he had lived it, and sometimes it’s in third and he’s screaming at himself to shut up even if the other him can’t hear the advice. Relives the absolute heartbreak in Sehun’s eyes when Junmyeon tells him to leave, that Sehun needs to stop being so clingy, they’re almost adults after all. When it’s in third person, he chases after Sehun. His dream shows what might have happened, because the real him never chased after Sehun. The real him didn’t see if Sehun was crying as he rode away on his bike, but Junmyeon’s subconscious helpfully supplies the images. Junmyeon’s imagination is just vivid enough to torture him, it’s always in slow motion. Enough to watch Sehun lose control of his bike and tumble down the forested hill they’ve raced by so many times before. Every time the nightmare ends, Junmyeon wakes up with tears streaming down his face, guilt bringing bile up his throat. 

Junmyeon never tells Sehun about them, even if Sehun undoubtedly knows that Junmyeon has nightmares. For some reason, Sehun just seems to know that it’s not something Junmyeon wants to talk about. And it eats at him every time, because Sehun has always been his go-to, his support beam when things get tough. He knows if he talks about it, though, that the things he fears will also be brought up. The thing that made him be so harsh with Sehun that night. The thing he wishes he had had the guts to say instead of what he had actually said. 

Junmyeon rolls over in bed to look at his clock, bright red numbers tell him it’s five in the morning and he needs to get up in a few minutes to get ready for work. He lets out a sigh, wiping at the residual tears for last night’s nightmare, and rolls back over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. 

He can’t feel Sehun’s presence, knows there’s no use in looking around. Sometimes Sehun will disappear for the day. Junmyeon isn’t sure why or what he does, but he’s grown used to it. 

Normally when he wakes up, he doesn’t lie around, but today seems heavy for some reason. Maybe it’s due to the nightmare and then Sehun’s lack of presence or maybe he’s just exhausted. Either way, he doesn’t get out of bed until his alarm has been blaring at him for a good two or three minutes. 

His whole day seems to be off. His class is quiet and attentive today and Junmyeon almost wants to step out to make sure he’s in the right classroom or pinch himself to see if he’s still dreaming. Little Jeonghan is extra helpful and keeps the other kids in line for the most part. Junmyeon is almost feeling normal by the end of the day, not as drained as he was yesterday. He’s excited to go home and tell Sehun about the weird day he had, picturing Sehun’s wide eyes and open mouth in disbelief. It makes him chuckle as he slip into his car and makes his way to his apartment.

When he gets through the door, he tosses his briefcase and jacket onto the chair by the entryway and calls out Sehun’s name as he wrestles his tie loose.

There’s no reply, so he calls out again. “Sehun-ah? You here?”

Still nothing. Junmyeon belatedly remembers that Sehun was gone when he woke up this morning and sighs in disappointment. He’ll just have to try to remember to tell him tomorrow. Sehun usually never stays away for more than a day, so it’s not that big of a deal.

Junmyeon goes through his normal routine, cooking instant ramen, watching some TV, showering, and then sliding into bed. Once again that heavy feeling comes back and Junmyeon attributes it to him missing Sehun. It’s a little harder for him to fall asleep this time, but eventually the red numbers of his alarm clock fade away. 

Sehun has been gone for three days now and Junmyeon is starting to get worried. It’s getting harder to pay attention to his kids and teaching. Minseok, a fellow teacher, looks at him with concern when he sees Junmyeon running his hands through his hair out of stress. Junmyeon stops the actions and gives a sheepish smile and wave. Minseok still frowns but keeps walking to his own classroom. 

It’s a Friday, so as soon as he gets home, he’s going to camp out until Sehun returns. He’s wondering if Sehun is coming home but leaving when he knows Junmyeon will return. That in itself is concerning, but at least it means Sehun might be coming home. 

He still calls out for Sehun when he enters the apartment. Knows that there will be no reply, but still does it anyway. Out of habit or desperation, Junmyeon doesn’t know at this point. He falls asleep on the couch that night, an attempt to stay awake as long as he can.

Saturday, he wakes up early, tries to eat and do normal stuff, but is on alert the whole day. By that night, he’s drained and it’s harder for him to stay awake as he listlessly stares at the TV. There’s still no sign of Sehun and that heavy feeling takes a permanent residence at the bottom of Junmyeon’s stomach. 

Sunday is much the same, except he forgets to try to act normal and just paces the whole apartment. Trying to think of a reason why Sehun would leave for this long. He draws up a blank and sits down heavily on the couch with his head in his hands. 

There’s no one for him to call to ask about Sehun, no one to talk about Sehun with. No one knows about Sehun’s existence, or well, his paranormal existence anyway. Junmyeon has no one to turn to and he had never thought about what he would do in a situation like this. He never thought Sehun would just disappear. 

The next week is hell. Sehun is still gone and Junmyeon can no longer pretend to be fine. Minseok pulls him aside on Wednesday and asks him what’s wrong, that he can talk to him. Junmyeon is on his last straw, so he breaks down and tells him a modified version. One without the dead childhood best friend haunting him part. 

Minseok listens intently as Junmyeon explains that his best friend is his roommate and has disappeared. Minseok briefly interrupts to ask if he’s filed a missing person’s report, something Junmyeon can’t actually do, but Junmyeon tries to explain how occasionally Sehun will disappear.

“Okay, so what was the last conversation you had with him?”

“He was bugging me to get laid-” Junmyeon blushes, “-and I told him I didn’t need to and how was I supposed to explain to someone that my…” Junmyeon trails off as something dawns on him. He hadn’t thought of it before, almost completely forgot about what he had said that had ended their last conversation.

Minseok is looking at him expectantly, but Junmyeon gets up and quickly excuses himself. Minseok almost tries to stop him, but Junmyeon’s mind is elsewhere, barely comprehending his surroundings.

How could he have been so stupid? Why did it take this long for him to realize that Sehun was leaving him alone, giving him space to live his life? Probably thinking he’s being a burden to Junmyeon, when that’s far from the case. 

Junmyeon tells his boss he’s not feeling well and his boss gives him Thursday and Friday off, as well. Junmyeon realizes then that he must really look a mess, but he counts it as good fortune. It means it’s more time for him to look for Sehun. 

Junmyeon had moved away from their hometown shortly after Sehun’s death. Despite Sehun being beside him, Junmyeon just couldn’t deal with the constant sympathetic glances his way. Didn’t feel like he deserved that compassion, not when it was his fault. 

He heads to his apartment first, grabbing a bag of clothes and toiletries, before making his way to the town he wishes he could stay away from. He knows that if Sehun was going to leave him for good, the only place he would go to is back home. 

The drive is forty minutes, not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but Junmyeon thought it was plenty of distance when he first moved away. His first destination is Sehun’s old house, where his parents still live. 

Junmyeon has to swallow down his anxiety, tries not to think of how incredibly strange it might be for Mr. and Mrs. Oh to see him on their front doorstep. He hasn’t really been around in the past couple of years. He takes a deep breath before knocking on the door in front of him. It brings a series of memories back like a flood, how many times has he knocked on this door and been greeted by Sehun’s parents or Sehun himself. Junmyeon tampers down the sudden urge to cry. This _isn’t_ the time. 

The door opens and Mrs. Oh is looking at him in surprise. She’s aged a bit the last time he saw her, but she still looks pretty youthful, something he used to tease Sehun about when Sehun still had his baby face. _It must be your genetics, Sehun-ah~_

“Junmyeon? Is something wrong?” Mrs. Oh is starting to look concerned. She’s always been perceptive, catching onto Junmyeon’s moods even if her son was clueless. Junmyeon used to consider her a second mother. 

“Ah, no! Sorry, I was just in town and wanted to stop by. Do you mind if I come in?” Junmyeon puts on his best polite smile, hoping it’s convincing enough. 

Mrs. Oh looks at him for another second, scrutinizing, before smiling softly and nodding. “Of course, come on in.” She lets him through the door before closing it behind him. 

The house is just like it used to be, just like he remembered. Pictures of Sehun, even some with Junmyeon, litter the walls. He was their only child and it showed with how much attention they gave him. Junmyeon remembers running down the halls, chasing after Sehun or playing some game they made up. He remembers nights of eating dinner with Sehun’s family, spending the night cuddled with Sehun in his bed or staying up late to play video games. Sometimes they even actually studied. Those nights had gotten few and far between leading up to the accident. Junmyeon’s chest aches, remembering how much he tried to distance them. It was stupid and Junmyeon knows that all the regret in the world couldn’t and wouldn’t turn back time. 

Mrs. Oh is a gracious host, even if a little confused by his sudden visit. She gets him something to drink and eat, explains that Mr. Oh is still at work. Junmyeon isn’t planning on staying long and says as much. If Sehun isn’t here, he needs to go to the next place on his makeshift list. 

He chitchats enough to be polite, talks about his kids that he teaches and what he has planned for Valentine’s Day for them. Mrs. Oh seems to pick up that Junmyeon has an ulterior motive to the visit as he run out of things to keep the small talk going. 

“If you want to go see his room, you can. You know you’re always welcome, Junmyeon.” Mrs. Oh pats his head affectionately as she walks off, leaving Junmyeon to his own devices.

He tries not to feel guilty, but it’s an impossible feat when it comes to this family. They never blamed him for what happened and it still tears him up to this day knowing he’s fully responsible. 

He slowly makes his way up the stairs, down the hall to the last door on the right. Sehun’s room is just like he left it the day before the accident. Nothing has been moved, though it has been lovingly taken care of. There’s no dust or that smell that tells you the room hasn’t been used in years. 

Junmyeon’s heart is pounding in his chest as he closes the door softly behind him. Memories come flooding back once again. Remembering the times he used to sit down on the floor with Sehun leaning against him as they talked about school, friends, and eventually plans for the future.

Junmyeon touches the bedpost closest to him reverently. The bed was practically brand new, Sehun had gotten too big for his old one and they had gotten him a new one for his fifteenth birthday. Recalling the nights he spent curled up in Sehun’s arms when he spent the night. The way his heart eventually started to pound every time Sehun tightened his hold on Junmyeon in his sleep. 

The picture board that Sehun had hung up when he was twelve still has all the pictures. Junmyeon tries not to cry as he looks them over, sees their younger selves with so much excitement for life, so much life in their eyes. He swallows past the lump that has steadily made a home in his throat. 

He understands the need to keep everything as it was, but in a odd sort of way, Junmyeon feels like this hurts more. It’s like a step in the past where Sehun is still alive and Junmyeon could still reach out and hug him. 

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice and whispers, not wanting Mrs. Oh to hear, “Sehun-ah, are you here? Please come out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. Please come back home.” Junmyeon’s chest aches, because it feels just like before when he first saw Sehun comatose. The words are so similar and tears stream down his face as he realizes how his words have sent Sehun away from him once again. 

There’s no response and Junmyeon isn’t sure why a little part of him had hoped. He hadn’t felt Sehun’s presence the whole time he was here, but Junmyeon couldn’t give up. 

Junmyeon takes a few deep breaths to stop the tears and wipes what’s left away. He leaves the room, a piece of his heart along with it, and bids Mrs. Oh a goodbye. She squeezes his arm before he leaves, a silent message of comfort, before he steps out of the door and heads to his next destination. 

He’s never taken Sehun for a morbid person, but his list of places Sehun might go is limited. Nevertheless, Junmyeon braves the forested hill and makes his way down to the bottom where they had found Sehun. 

It doesn’t look like anything. There’s no crosses or signs to indicate someone died, those are at the top of the hill by the road. The only indication is Sehun’s bike that has been taken over by the wildlife. It’s broken beyond repair, rusted, a forgotten piece of the overall tragic story. Sehun’s parents never got it picked up, too focused and worried about their son. Junmyeon hadn’t had the guts back then to see where Sehun had been found by some hikers that had just happened to walk by a couple of hours later. 

Unlike Sehun’s room, Junmyeon isn’t overwhelmed by emotion in this place. He’s not sure if it’s because the tranquility of the forest or the lack of any attachment to the area. Overall, he feels detached and almost empty as he looks around. Sehun isn’t here either and there’s no real reason for him to linger. He gives one last brief look at the bike before making his way back up the hill to his car. 

The last place he can think of is Sehun’s grave. He’s not sure why Sehun would come here, but he’s all out of options. Sehun’s favorite places here were places that no longer existed, besides his room. 

Junmyeon stands in front Sehun’s grave and it’s almost surreal to think that Sehun’s body is in the ground below, despite having been living with Sehun for the past few years. Junmyeon sits down in front of the headstone, tracing the engravings of Sehun’s name, birth and death date, and the little generic message below with his fingertips. 

He talks to the headstone, needing something to focus on as he tries to get Sehun’s attention. “Sehun, please talk to me. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not a burden, Sehun-ah. I don’t need anyone else, so please just come back home.” Junmyeon chokes down the sob rising up. “I need you. I miss you. I’m sorry.” 

It’s like something in Junmyeon breaks as he folds over and openly sobs. That heavy feeling is back and this time, this time Junmyeon acknowledges that it’s because he knows. Deep down he knows that Sehun is gone, the empty hole in his heart that is throbbing so bad can attest to him on that. 

Sehun has left him again and this time there is no second chances. 

“Sehun... Please!” Junmyeon gasps out, trying to talk through his tears. “Please...come back...please...I need you…”

Junmyeon spends the night in the cemetery, lying on the ground with his head right in front of the headstone. He has no more tears to offer as he plays with a blade of grass between his thumb and index finger. He closes his eyes and pretends he’s lying next to Sehun in bed, playing with a strand of Sehun’s freshly dyed hair. 

“Sehun-ah, I never got to tell you...Sehun-ah, that day...I was just afraid, because I couldn’t stop my feelings and I was afraid I would lose you if you found out...” Junmyeon wishes he could cry, wishes it would hurt less if he did. 

“Sehun-ah, I’ve been in love with you for eight years…” Junmyeon squeezes his eyes tight, wishing he could block out reality. Wishes he could turn back time and fix this. “Sehun-ah, please...I love you so much...Please come back.”

Junmyeon goes home the next day. He can’t help the little ball of hope that rises up when he unlocks the door and steps in. That little ball soon crashes, shatters all over the floor, the last of his hope. Sehun isn’t there. 

Junmyeon wishes he could talk to someone. He wishes he could bury his nose in his blankets and catch a fading scent, but Sehun was a ghost. He didn’t leave scents, didn’t leave behind mementos, or anything of the sort. Despite that, this apartment has never felt as empty as it does now. 

Junmyeon doesn’t have work until next Monday, so he does the only thing he’s capable of doing and falls into bed hoping to sleep the days away. He welcomes the prospect of having another nightmare, because at least he’s seeing Sehun again. The nightmares don’t come back though, but he dreams of Sehun. All of the laughs, tears, complaints they had shared. Junmyeon realizes shortly that those dreams, while pleasant, give him no reprieve. If anything, they hurt the most, because they make him wish he never had to wake up again. An option he knows he doesn’t have, because he owes it to Sehun to continue to live. He has to live for him. 

It’s punishment enough for the damage he’s done.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, if you read this, thank you.  
> I don't know about you guys but I cried writing it, so it was a bittersweet accomplishment when I finished it.  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> I hope this didn't make anyone too sad. ♡


End file.
